Signs 2: Remains
by Arcadio
Summary: The question isn't "are we alone?" anymore, it's "how long before they return?" But how do we know the invasion isn't over... how do we know all of them left? Please R&R!
1. Pitch Black

"It's too dark..."

Silence. Pitch black. Everything and nothing could be happening, and nobody would be any the wiser. Suddenly, the lights flickered on, and there, standing at the bottom of the stairs was Bo. A beautiful young girl who held so much wisdom in her innocent smile. Not three feet away was her brother Morgan, breathing hard, trying hard to keep himself under control.

Morgan slowly moved to the door. "Bo... don't be afraid."

She eyed him as he ushered her closer. She shook her head, standing firm at the bottom of the stairs, unwilling to move another step.

"Bo," Morgan whisphered firmly, edging closer to her. "Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you... you know that, don't you?"

Bo hesitated before nodding her head. She slipped her delicate hand into Morgan's and let him lead the way as they got closer to the door. Their eyes were flicking from wall to wall, corner to corner, completely on edge. Bo was the more anxious. It had been a long time since this had last happened... and she wasn't sure she wanted to go through that again. But, as usual, she had gone along with her brother, and found herself in this situation.

Morgan reached for the door handle and turned. His breathing was getting louder and louder, and this only made him more nervous. As he twisted the knob, a **creak** sounded through the hallway and the two children instantly stopped dead in their tracks.

Neither of them moved for a long while.

"Morgan..." Bo whispered through the silence. "... I think they're in there."

Morgan turned to his sister, trying to put on a brave face, but he knew she could see right through him. All he could do was nod, and slowly push the door open. And when they saw what was in the kitchen of their home, their eyes widened in complete **shock**. Something they hoped wouldn't be there.


	2. I Dreamed This

"What did I tell you?"

Morgan and Bo looked at their Father in surprise, although, if they admitted it, they knew he would be there. Morgan quickly looked around, grabbing an almost empty glass of water from the table, improvising an excuse. "Bo wanted a glass of water."

Graham turned to Merrill, who had a curved smile dangling on his lips. "This isn't funny."

"I didn't say a word," Merrill replied, although it was plainly obvious he found the situation amusing.

Graham took the glass from Morgan and moved to the kitchen sink, disposing of the fluid and refilling it with some tap water. He turned back to the children, passing the water to Bo, who took it sheepishly. "Now, we all know why you're both down here."

"I was thirsty," Bo simply answered.

Graham shook his head.

Bo tried again. "Because there's a monster under my bed?"

"No," Graham shook his head again, turning to probably the most appetizing chocolate cake ever known to mankind. "You were going to eat this."

The children were silent for a moment, until Bo spoke. "It was Morgan's idea."

"Bo!" Morgan exclaimed, before turning back to Graham, although not quite looking him in the eyes. "I... Bo was --"

"Thirsty?" Graham rolled his eyes. "Get to bed. You both have school tomorrow."

"But, Dad --" Morgan protested before being hushed.

"Come on. I'll take you," Merrill finally chipped in, ushering them towards the door. But as the three of them got closer, there was an eerie **clicking** noise that sounded all too familiar. The whole family stopped. Their eyes roamed the room, exchanging glances. For a while, none of them spoke... they didn't move... in fact, the only sound was that of Morgan's breathing.

"Morgan... when did you switch that on?" Graham asked, indicating the flashing baby monitor that was kept on one of the side tables.

Morgan shook his head, obviously disturbed. "I didn't."

Once again, the family exchanged their looks, and the **clicking** continued. Bo slowly walked to the baby monitor but didn't touch it. She turned to her family.

"I dreamed this..."


	3. Faith

Motionless.

The Hess family didn't dare move, they were completely consumed by this sound that was echoing throughout the kitchen of their home. Their eyes were fixed on the baby monitor as **clicks** sounded over it. They all knew what it could mean but none of them spoke of it, none of them said what was on their minds for fear that by saying it, they could make it true. The first to move was Morgan, who slowly edged closer to Bo but suddenly...

**BANG!**

In synchronized movements, the family snapped their heads around to the kitchen window, catching a glimpse of a shadow crawling past. Graham kept his attention on the window and spoke with closed lips. "Merrill... take them down to the basement..."

But Merrill was transfixed, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to take any notice of Graham.

"Now!" Graham commanded a little louder, but still fairly quiet.

With that, Merrill ushered the kids to the door, against their protests. Graham turned his head to make sure they were to safety before pulling out one of Merrill's baseball bats, one of many he used to coach the local school's team. Holding it firmly and high above his head, he was ready to swing, ready for anything. But every part of his body was shaking. Not just fear for himself, but fear for his family, who only just survived the last ordeal... the **invasion**. Most people refer to it as mankind's greatest test, that they had proved they were worthy of existence. But others weren't so sure that mankind had won... they suspected the aliens had never really left at all. And if that were true, it would mean the invasion was not over, and that this was all part of some bigger plan. Graham hoped that wasn't true... he couldn't afford to lose his faith again.

And as he stepped closer to the backdoor... **CLICK!** This stopped him, for the sound wasn't coming over the baby monitor... it was but a few feet away from him. Were the aliens waiting for him to open the door so they could attack him? Enter his home and kill his brother, his children? Or was it simply the sound of a very loud grasshopper and the baby monitor was just making random noises? He didn't know. He didn't care. After the last time, it was better to be safe than sorry. So he waited, his hands holding the baseball bat, knowing it was probably the only thing in the world that could save their lives at the moment...

... but he prayed he was just being paranoid...


	4. Not What Mommy Said

"I can't hear anything," Morgan said quietly, looking to the door that was firmly closed. His eyes wandered to Bo, standing with her back to the wall, clutching her glass of water, then to Merrill, who flicked on a switch, lighting the basement.

"Lucky we got this all rewired. After last time, I figured we should... you know," Merrill let his eyes sink to the floor for a moment as his mind raced with a thousand questions. A million scenarios playing over and over. And every single one he envisioned lead to nothing good. Merrill was a simple man with not a lot of expectations, but his imagination always got the better of him... or at least, it had since that night... when the signs started to emerge.

Bo walked to her uncle, tugging at his hand. "I dreamed this."

"Dreamed what, Bo?" Morgan asked, coming closer to her.

At first she was hesitant, as if unsure if she should disclose such information that she had kept so private, but this was her family, and they needed to know her dream. "Last night, I had a dream... we were all in the kitchen and then... the baby monitor was clicking and there were shadows and then..."

"... and what?" Morgan demanded, edging closer and closer.

"And then there was Daddy... alone... but not alone..." Bo revealed, her calm but disturbed voice echoed through the basement, through their minds. "Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know," Morgan said, because that was all he could say. He couldn't assure his younger sister that everything was going to be all right, because he didn't know that. He read so much, saw everything about the invasion on the television, but yet, he was like everybody else: clueless. "I don't understand. They're not supposed to come back yet. The book said at least forty years."

Merrill shook his head. "It's just a book, Morgan. Just because one man writes it, doesn't mean that's the way it's going to play out. Nobody can predict the future."

Morgan paused, then, "Bo can."

"Bo --?" he turned to see she was edging further back into the shadows of the basement where the light couldn't reach. As Merrill was about to speak --

**SMASH! THUMP!**

All three of them shot their attention to the ceiling where the loud noises had come from. They knew exactly what it could be. They knew exactly how it could have happened. And they knew the thump could have been Graham's body falling to the floor, motionless, still... dead.

"I should go up there. Morgan... protect your sister," Merrill said, reaching for the door knob.

"Wait!" Bo called, passing Merrill the glass of water. "Look in the mirror."

Merrill cocked his head, unsure of what the youngest child was saying to him, but like everything nowadays, he took it without question. He opened the door and crept out. Morgan was quick to close the door behind him, holding he weight against it, hoping it would be enough to stop anything getting in. But as the two of them waited their in silence, they were only growing more fearful of what could happen. Would they die? Would they live? Would they be enslaved? As children, they should have been thinking about their favourite television shows, or what they had done at school that day... or even making lists for their birthdays... but the world had changed. Children didn't have the luxury of thinking about that anymore. Now, in school, they were taught about the aliens -- their rumoured culture, their weaknesses -- and on television, all that was ever scheduled was warnings of alien sightings, programs on survival techniques. As for birthdays, there was hardly enough money to live on. The country was still reeling from the devestation of the **invasion**, and none of their crops grew anymore due to the crop circles -- nothing new would grow where they had made their signs.

Then, from out of nowhere, Bo burst into tears. Morgan quickly wrapped his arms around her, trying to lend his comfort. "Bo, it's okay. It's okay. Nothing bad's gonna happen."

"But last time it did. Last time you nearly died," Bo replied through her cries.

Morgan shook his head. "We're prepared this time, Bo. We know what hurts them, we know the safest places to hide... we'll be all right."

Bo lifted her head, wiping the tears from her eyes, looked him in the face, and with a blank expression, gently touched his cheek. "That's not what Mommy said..."


	5. Crimson Tears

_"It's cold out here."_

Bo nodded. But she didn't care, she was warm and snug in one of her Father's sweaters, one that he wouldn't miss. The small girl rested on a rock covered in snow -- in fact, the whole forest was covered in snow -- and Bo looked like a little angel, wrapped in an angel's father's sweater.

_"You look so beautiful, Bo."_

Bo smiled sweetly. "I know."

The female voice chuckled. Bo was alone in this forest, but the voice filled her with such warmth, that she didn't feel alone at all. She could never feel alone when this voice was with her, in her heart.

_"I have to tell you something, Bo."_

"I'd rather you didn't," Bo replied, making a small snowball with her cupped hands. She tried to imagine it was a planet, a white planet of course, with traces of lines where the continents began and ended. She wrapped her hands around the snowball, wanting to keep it safe, like she'd wished someone was doing for them not so long ago. To this small, snowy white planet, she was God. And she was going to do her job.

But as Bo pulled back her hands, she could see the snowball had crumbled in her grip. "No..." she shook her head in disbelief. She had killed the planet, devestated the continents. The water had spilled over to the land, millions had been killed -- in just a firm grip.

_"Will you listen to me now?"_

"No!" Bo took off into the woods. What else could she do but run? She was young, just a normal girl, and the power she wielded was something bestowed upon her. She didn't choose it. She didn't want it. All she wanted to do was be a young girl. She wanted to dream of being a princess, of meeting her knight in shining armour, or prince charming. She wanted to walk home from school without looking at the sky and asking those same questions. 'Are they going to kill us today?' was the most frequent. But the things we long for the most are often the things we just cannot have. And to be a young girl who dreamed of being a princess and meeting her prince -- that seemed impossible.

As her feet ran away with her, Bo found herself toppling over and landing hard on the ground. She pulled her face out of the snow and slowly got to her feet, trying to wipe the snowflakes off. But, as she looked to the sky, she could see drops of snow falling from the sky. A smile graced her lips, dancing like a ballerina. Bo spun around in a circle, welcoming the snowflakes into her world.

But drop by drop the snowflakes changed. They were **blood red**. Oblivious to it, Bo continued dancing, red drops splattering over her face, her clothes, her entire body. Suddenly Bo's eyes flickered open and she stopped dead in her tracks, realizing the snowflakes were not only crimson, but it wasn't snow anymore. **It was blood**.

_"You must listen to me, Bo, for we haven't much time,"_ the voice began, a calm, but also subtly afraid, tone. _"Things are on their way, baby, they're coming. Don't be afraid... but everything is not going to be all right."_

Bo's legs gave way and she collapsed in the pool of blood around her. Her tears were crimson, her skin was red, and as she raised her head she saw a distorted figure. **An alien**.

"I won't let that happen, Bo" Morgan assured her, holding her hand tightly as she explained her dream to him.

**BANG!**

The children's eyes sprung to the ceiling as the sound played out through the basement. They didn't say a word.

But their hands remained interlocked.


End file.
